


Crash Into Me

by suilven



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-27
Updated: 2012-02-27
Packaged: 2017-10-31 20:15:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/347946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suilven/pseuds/suilven





	1. A Small Act of Kindness

**A Small Act of Kindness**

It was because he was the closest. Or, possibly, it was just sheer dumb luck… if you could call it that.

Loghain had gone down, almost at their feet, with Alistair's sword across his throat. She had screamed, drowning out the few astonished gasps in the Landsmeet chamber; a sound of anguish that had clenched in his gut as Ser Cauthrien dropped to her knees beside him.

"No." She shook her head. "No. No." She murmured the word over and over while Loghain's blood pooled into a dark puddle on the stone.

Alistair, breathing heavily, his armor splashed with red, scarcely gave her a glance before turning his back on them to return to Elissa Cousland's side. Though Teagan listened carefully to the rest of the proceedings—Queen Anora was to marry Alistair, the line of Calenhad re-secured—he couldn't help watching her. The others all looked away, not wanting to see, but his gaze kept drifting to the back of her bowed head, the way her shoulders shook with silent sobs.  _What would Anora do with her now?_

"He shouldn't be left like this. After all he's done. It's not right." Her voice should not have been audible over the mutterings of the other nobles, but the words reached  _his_  ears. Though he'd only been a boy, he still remembered how they'd celebrated after the Orlesians had been driven out by this man. He'd finally been able to come home to Ferelden, though his father had not been there to see their return.

The Hero of the River Dane, despite it all.

Despite what he'd done to Cailan—to Ferelden—everything he had done for Maric— _for_  Ferelden—still mattered. Without thinking about what he was doing, his hands found the clasp of his cloak, and he stepped around Cauthrien's bent form and the mess on the floor to drape the material over the body, Loghain's eyes still staring blankly at Teagan's boots. The Queen, though mired in conversation with the other Banns, gave him a curt nod, her gratitude evident.

"Thank you." Cauthrien didn't bother to raise her head.

"It seemed disrespectful to leave him like that."

She looked up at him then, her eyes wild and lost. A mist of dried blood clung to her cheeks, accentuating the paleness of her skin. He held out his hand and waited.

There was long pause, and then she slipped her hand in his, her fingers cool against the heat of his palm. She rose with a surprising sense of grace. "He was only trying to do what he thought was best. For Ferelden." Her gaze flicked down to the body on the floor. "We all were." With that, her hand was gone from his and she turned to go.

"Wait—" He fumbled in his pocket for a handkerchief, holding it out to her. "For your face. It's covered in…" Teagan faltered, unable to say the words aloud.

Cauthrien took it, running her fingers over the thin square of fabric for a moment before rubbing her cheeks vigorously. Little came off, the spatter already dry. She looked down at the unblemished cloth and held it towards him. "Thank you."

"It's all right. You can keep it."

She left her hand extended for a moment, withdrawing it only when it was clear he wasn't going to allow her to return it. Clutching it tightly in her fist, her eyes met his. "Why are you being kind to me?"

He shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't know."

"Ser Cauthrien, step forward, please." Anora's voice cut through the thick of the conversations surrounding them. Alistair was standing beside her, a frown pulling at his features.

Cauthrien pivoted to face the Queen, dropping down to one knee and bowing her head. "Your Majesty."

"Ser Cauthrien, while your crimes would normally warrant your execution, we cannot afford the loss of your skills given the current… situation." Alistair's scowl grew darker as the Queen spoke. "You are hereby stripped of your rank and your position as lieutenant and commander of the Maric's Shield regiment and you shall remain with the army for the time being in an advisory capacity only. In exchange for your service, you will not be executed or exiled, but may remain in Ferelden in whatever non-military capacity you see fit."

"Thank you, Your Majesty. I shall do whatever is asked of me." She spoke her words to the floor.

"Then, this Landsmeet is adjourned. Cauthrien, you are expected in the war room immediately. There is much for all of us to discuss." Anora swept away with Alistair, Elissa, Eamon, and a handful of others in her wake. Cauthrien stood up slowly, giving him only the briefest glance before striding off after the others, the flutter of the handkerchief's edge trailing from her hand.


	2. An Unexpected Invitation

**An Unexpected Invitation**

He hated being at court. There was no possibility of shirking this time, however, not with the royal wedding and the dedication ceremony for Elissa Cousland's memorial. The past year had been nothing but hardship for his freeholders and it seemed like an incredible waste of his time to be here with all this forced decadence. He had muddled his way through this night's feast, picking at the offered delicacies and managing a few remarks to make it seem as though he was interested in the conversations around him. Teagan leaned back against the wall now and sipped his glass of wine, hoping to remain relatively unnoticed. Pairs of dancers circled elegantly, the music quick and lively. The wine was tart on his tongue, refreshing after the heavy meal, and he had already had enough to feel slightly light-headed.

_Maker, not again._

Bann Sighard's wife and daughter were mingling ever closer, and he didn't miss the predatory glint in Lady Sighard's eyes. She had been after him since he'd arrived, trying to convince him of what a perfect match he would be for her eldest daughter, Alethia. She had to be only seventeen or eighteen summers at most, and the few times they'd spoken had been more than sufficient for him to know, without a doubt, that he was  _not_  interested. Downing the rest of his wine in a large swallow, he sidled along the wall and around the edge of a small alcove where he would be hidden from their view for at least a few more moments of peace.

"Bann Teagan."

He paused at the sudden realization that the alcove was already occupied. He'd thought he was the only one seeking respite from the bustle and noise of the crowds. Somehow, though, he wasn't surprised that it was her. "Ser Cauthrien." She looked ill at ease, an empty goblet in one hand as well. It was strange to see her in a gown, although the one she wore had clearly been made for someone shorter and less lean and muscled than she was. "How are you?"

"As well as can be expected, given the circumstances." She met his gaze with a small shrug. "And, you?"

"The same, I suppose." They stood in uncomfortable silence for a moment. "Would you care for another glass of wine?" he ventured, for lack of anything else to say.

Cauthrien nodded, handing him her empty one. "Please."

He ducked out cautiously—Lady Sighard and Alethia were trapped in a discussion with Arl Bryland and he was thankful, for once, that the man could blather on for an exceedingly long time. Placing the empty glasses on a nearby table, he selected two new ones filled with wine of crimson so deep that it was nearly black and hurried back to his hiding place. Cauthrien leaned on the wall at the opening, her head resting against the edge where the indent of the alcove began, looking so much more a soldier than a lady that he couldn't help a small smile as he approached. She returned it, just the tiniest upturn at the corners of her mouth, but it gave him a strange and subtle thrill to see it. "For you."

He held one of the goblets out to her and her fingers lightly brushed his as she took it. "Thank you."

Teagan slipped back into the safety of the alcove after ensuring that Arl Bryland was still holding his reluctant audience captive. He raised his glass to her. "To avoiding the madness out there."

Cauthrien studied him curiously before raising her own glass, touching the lip of it against the body of his with a gentle tap. "To avoiding the madness… as best we can."

They both took a sip; the wine was cool and soothing on his throat. As she took the glass from her mouth, he noticed that it had stained her lips ever so slightly.

"Bann Teagan!" The unexpected sound of Lady Sighard's shrill voice made him jump. "Whatever are you doing in here?" She stepped into the alcove, dragging Alethia along with her, her arm looped possessively within her daughter's. She stopped short. "Oh.  _Ser_  Cauthrien. Are you still being allowed to attend these events? I would have thought that—" Teagan cleared his throat noisily and Lady Sighard dropped her derisive gaze in favor of a false smile directed at him. "Bann Teagan, you remember Alethia, don't you?"

She dug her elbow sharply into the girl's side and Alethia stepped forward with a muffled squeak that she disguised with a cough and a quick curtsy. "My Lord."

She extended her hand to him, and he kissed her gloved fingers reluctantly. "Lady Alethia."

"We were hoping you had a few minutes to talk, or maybe a dance?" Alethia looked up at him through her eyelashes, a maneuver that he couldn't help feeling she'd spent hours practicing.

He glanced at Cauthrien, who was watching them all coolly, her spine straight, her fingers coiled a little too tightly around the stem of her glass. "I apologize, Lady Sighard, but I've already committed my next few dances to Ser Cauthrien. Perhaps later."

Lady Sighard tugged her daughter's arm back in to her grasp, her disappointment evident. "We look forward to it." With a final glare in Cauthrien's direction, she swept Alethia off, likely towards her next eligible target.

"I'm sorry." Teagan took a large swallow of his wine. "I didn't mean to… impose on you."

"It's all right. I'm used to people like her." Cauthrien drained the rest of her wine like it was a pint of ale in a tavern. "I should go."

Something about the set of her jaw and the tight way she held her shoulders made him pause. "Would you… care to dance first?"

"I don't dance."

"Does that mean you can't, or that you won't?"

"Does it matter?"

Teagan took the empty glass from her hand and she released it reluctantly. "Yes, it does."

"Won't. This whole spectacle is ridiculous."

"It is." He took a gulp of wine. "Dance with me anyway?"

"Why?"

"Because… you want to? Never mind, I'm being foolish." He finished his cup, feeling more than a little drunk now. "Forgive me."

"All right." Cauthrien smoothed the front of her dress with her hands in an obviously unfamiliar motion.

"What?"

"I'll dance with you, but only one song."

Teagan transferred both wine glasses to one hand and presented her with his arm. "Shall we?"

They made their way to the central area, still alive with other pairs of dancers, twirling and spinning through the intricate steps. Teagan left their glasses on one of the numerous tables, and when the music stopped and began again—a slower tune this time—they joined the others, his one hand slipping carefully against the small of her back, the other twining formally with hers. Cauthrien's hand on his shoulder was surprisingly firm, and her steps were hesitant at first, growing more sure as they progressed through the pattern of movements a few times.

"You dance well."

"No, I don't. I knew much simpler versions of these, and it's been a long time. A lifetime, almost."

"Before you joined the army?" He focused on her face, ignoring the sour glances a few of the other pairs were throwing their way. Part of him secretly hoped Eamon was watching.

"Yes." She stared at him matter-of-factly, unafraid of meeting his eyes. It was so different, like the feel of her lean back against his palm, lacking the softness of any of the noblewomen here.

It suddenly struck him that she was no longer with the army, yet she was still here. "So, are you staying in Denerim then?"

"For now." She grimaced, her posture stiffening. "The Queen tolerates my presence, but I remind her too much of her father. She is the only reason I am still welcome here. Our soon-to-be king has made it amply clear that he wishes I'd been executed."

"Why do you stay?" The music stilled and began again, and Teagan altered his steps accordingly, noticing that she easily did the same.

Cauthrien shrugged, adjusting her hand in his. "I gave up everything for Ferelden and now, it seems, that was not enough." Her voice had taken on a bitter edge. "I have nowhere else to go."

"You could come to Rainesfere." The words were out of his mouth without thinking.

"And do what? Warm your bed?" Her eyes were brittle and cold and he could feel the subtle way she pulled away from him, although she didn't let go of his hand.

"No! No, I didn't mean—I don't know what I meant. I just… I don't know. You could come train my guards?"

"I can't. I'm forbidden from doing anything in a military capacity." Her fingers were clenching his so tightly that it hurt.

"Right. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude." He sighed, letting an awkward silence settle between them.

"Why do you care?" He must have looked puzzled, as she continued. "About being rude. About how I feel. You, of all people, should hate me."

"I don't hate you. You didn't betray Cailan, Loghain did." Teagan dropped his voice, conscious of the other pairs swirling around them.

"I still believe Teyrn Loghain did the right thing. The King would have sacrificed all of us for his ridiculous ideals. There would have been no army left to face the Archdemon if the Teyrn hadn't done what he did. I don't regret it." Cauthrien stopped, pulling her hand away from his and stepping away from him. She straightened up, a presence accustomed to command. "There, you can hate me now."

Teagan stared at her, heedless of the other couples in movement around them. "My invitation still stands, for whatever it's worth. I'm riding out in three days, after the wedding." He took her hand and raised it to his mouth. She wore no gloves, so he pressed his lips directly on her fingertips. "Ser Cauthrien." He didn't release her hand.

"Bann Teagan." She looked him over slowly. "I'll… I'll think about it." Her hand slid from his and she was gone. He watched her go until she disappeared through the wide double-doors at the room's entrance.

He could not deny the elated leap of his heart a few mornings later, when she was there waiting for him, along with the rest of his guard. Cauthrien was already mounted on her horse, a great brown beast with a shaggy coat, and it pawed at the ground in a mirror of its mistress' impatience. "Are you not ready to go yet? The sun was up more than an hour ago."

Swinging himself up easily into his own horse's saddle, Teagan grinned. "Let's go then."

Cauthrien nodded, and they clattered out of the stableyard together.


	3. Common Ground

**Common Ground**

The first few weeks were strange and awkward, leaving Teagan more and more sure that he'd had far too much to drink when he'd invited her to come. Cauthrien took most of her meals in her room, except when he explicitly asked her to join him and, then, their conversation was stilted and uncomfortable. There was nothing for her to do here, and he watched from the windows as she paced the grounds of the Keep restlessly, her long blue cloak trailing behind her in the snow. It reminded him of the caged bear he had seen once as a boy, filling him with the same sort of sadness. Had he merely helped her trade one cage for another?

It wasn't until he had suggested that she might use the training room that things had changed. At first, she had refused, citing the Queen's restrictions, but the temptation had been too great. They had rationalized it together; if she was training only for herself then there was no reason why it should not be allowed. She would use the room in the evenings, when it was no longer needed by his own men.

The first night, he came down to watch her. Cauthrien acknowledged his presence with a nod as he settled himself down on one of the benches next to the door, though she didn't hesitate in her motions. The fluid dance of her blade never faltered as she lunged and feinted, sweat dripping down her brow. Teagan sat mesmerized by the intensity of her movements, and he was unsure how much time had passed when she finally stopped, returning the blunted sword to the weapons rack and wiping her face with her hand. The tendrils of hair that had escaped her ponytail were damp and curling from her exertions. She'd smiled then, the first he'd ever seen. "Thank you."

"You're most welcome. Perhaps, we might spar, sometime, though I expect to lose… that was incredible."

"You want to spar with me?" She raised an eyebrow.

"If you like."

Cauthrien eyed him with what he thought was amusement. "All right. Go grab a sword."

"What? Now?"

"Yes,  _now_. Show me what you've got."

Naturally, she had trounced him thoroughly and he'd found himself barely able to crawl out of bed the next day. It hadn't stopped him from seeking her out the following evening, however. She had actually grinned. "Back for more?"

"Yes." He had shrugged weakly, not quite sure why he had returned, but craving her approval all the same.

She had nodded, eying him appraisingly. "First, you need to work on your stances."

Through the long winter months, they had continued, a strange sense of routine solidifying between them. During the day, he handled the running of the Keep and dealt with the politics and responsibilities that his position entailed, while she walked the grounds, rode, or hunted. They ate their evening meal together before adjourning to the training room. She still beat him consistently, though he was pleased that he was able to get a point in on her now and again. It surprised him, one night, as she sent him sprawling to the ground once more that, for the first time in a long time, he was happy.


	4. Confessions and Consequences

**Confessions and Consequences**

"You're dropping your right shoulder again." She lunged in for a strike, but he deflected it off his blade and countered back, pushing her away once more.

"Right." He adjusted his posture and darted in for a low blow, but she danced away from him easily. He loved the way her body moved as she fought, lithe and graceful.

"You're thinking too much. Feel and react." Her sword had somehow slid in to tap his side while he'd been distracted. "My point."

He pivoted to follow her movement, his blade at the ready. "Easy for you to say. You were born with a sword in your hand—your poor mother."

"I was not." She slashed at his chest as she edged forward. "I knew next to nothing before Teyrn Loghain recruited me." Teagan barely dodged the next overhand chop to his right shoulder. He was getting winded, his reflexes slower than they should be.

"Did he teach you?"

"Some. Once I'd risen through the ranks enough to get his attention." Three swift sweeps of her blade drove him towards the rear wall of the room. With nowhere to go, she soon had him pinned with the edge of her sword against his neck. "My point again. You need a break."

Teagan slumped down gratefully on the bench as she poured them both glasses of water from the pitcher they'd brought with them.

"Here," she said, offering him a glass and sitting down next to him.

"Thanks." It was an effort not to gulp, and he forced himself to sip slowly as his breathing slowly became more normal and less of a desperate gulp for air. "Did you spar with him?"

"Who? Loghain?" Cauthrien leaned back, resting her head against the wall and pressing the cool glass to the sides of her neck and cheeks before taking a drink. "Occasionally."

"Was he good?"

"The best. The proudest moment of my life was when he named me his lieutenant."

He leaned back as well, stretching the ache that was already building in his muscles. "Can I ask… what do you think happened to change him? When I was a young, he was a hero. I'm sure he was sick of me following him around every time I was at court and he was there."

"I wish I knew." Cauthrien set her glass down on the floor and rubbed the back of her neck with her hand. "His hatred of Orlais grew stronger and stronger; he saw conspiracies everywhere. He told me—" she stopped and looked at him thoughtfully before continuing. "He told me that he knew for certain that Cailan was going to put Anora aside since she hadn't produced an heir. Right before he died, Cailan was in the middle of marriage negotiations with Empress Celene."

Teagan let out a breath. "Do you believe that?"

"Yes, and I think that was what pushed him over the edge. Cailan had betrayed Anora, betrayed Ferelden, by selling us out to Orlais. Everything that King Maric and Teyrn Loghain had accomplished was about to be undone."

"I can't deny that I hated Loghain for what he did. Whatever faults Cailan had, he was our king. But, I remember the tales of the Orlesian occupation, how hard we fought and what it cost us. My father died at West Hill."

Cauthrien's voice was quiet, and he leaned forward to hear her better. "It disturbed him—what he had to do—more than he let on. He had nightmares about it."

His mouth moved ahead of his thoughts. "Were you and he… lovers, then?" He could have smacked himself in the head for asking about it. There had been rumors about it for years, yet there was a gnawing sort of anger prickling in his stomach as he thought about it now.

She looked at him sharply before standing up. "Break's over. Get your sword, if you aren't too tired."

There was no more talking. She came at him fiercely, holding back nothing, and scoring point after point until he could scarcely hold his sword up any longer. "I yield, I yield." He dropped his sword on the ground and held up his hands, his chest straining to draw in each breath.

Cauthrien slowly lowered the tip of her blade, her own chest heaving. Rivulets of sweat were rolling down her face as she turned away from him, letting her own weapon fall to the floor with a clatter. "No."

"No what?"

"No, we weren't lovers." She turned back to face him, her voice hard.

"I'm sorry for asking. I wasn't thinking."

"It's fine. I know what they said about me, about how I must have  _earned_  my place. I know the names they called me. Loghain's Bitch, heeling at her master's side. I've heard them all." She grabbed her sword from the ground and stalked over to the weapon rack. After a moment of hesitation, Teagan did the same.

"That's not who you are anymore. You're your own person, now."

He slid his blade in next to hers on the rack and she met the softness in his eyes with a glare. "I don't know who I am. Everything I was is gone. There's nothing left."

"That's not true."

"Isn't it? What am I doing now? Teaching you the finer points of swordsmanship? Living off your hospitality? At least if I was fucking you I'd be earning my keep." She slammed her palm against the wall. "Sometimes, I wish I'd just been executed. It would have been better than living this half-life." Her shoulders were trembling as she coiled her arms around her chest, seemingly trying to hold herself together.

"Cauthrien…"

He reached out to lay a hand on her arm, but she stepped back, shaking her head. "I don't want your pity, Teagan." He was sure that it was a tear, rather than a drop of sweat, that rolled down her cheek.

"It's not pity."

"You don't know me. You don't know the terrible things I've done…" She broke down and turned away from him, too proud to cover her face with her hands.

Teagan grasped her shoulders gently, trying to force her to turn towards him. "Look at me. Please."

He tugged again and she pivoted around to face him, tears streaming down her face. "Nothing you say can change anything."

"I'm in love with you."

He hadn't meant to say it, had never even parsed the thought out in his mind, yet… it was true. A stunned silence dropped between them.

A noise escaped her that was equal parts laughter and a sob. "You can't be serious."

Cupping her cheek in his hand, he smoothed away the tears with his thumb. Her eyes closed at his touch. "I love you," he whispered. The nearness of her was intoxicating; the thought that she might feel the same way was making his heart skitter wildly, like a bird frantically beating its wings inside his chest.

He leaned in closer, feeling the warmth of her breath coming in short gasps against his mouth but, in the last moment, she was pushing him away with a splayed hand on his chest. "Don't." Cauthrien stepped back, shaking her head, her eyes darting to the door.

"I didn't mean to… I'm sorry. "

"It's not you. I just can't—" She took a deep breath. "I have to go." She was across the room before he could react.

"Cauthrien! Wait!"

But, she was already gone.


	5. You Know I Will

**You Know I Will**

The following morning, Teagan woke early, having barely slept after tossing fitfully most of the night. From the windowseat in his chambers, he watched the sun rise over the Keep, deep navy giving way to the softness of yellows, pinks, and oranges; the pale twinkling stars swallowed up by the morning light cresting over the horizon. The snow in the yard was almost completely gone now; the only traces that remained were along the sheltered edge of the north wall, and those mounds grew smaller with each day that passed. He was lost in thought about how badly he'd made a mess of things, when an unexpected movement caught his eye.

A bowed head in a long blue cloak was crossing the grass leading a shaggy brown charger.

_No, she couldn't be—_

The figure stopped, looking up his window, though he was sure he wasn't visible. He was up in an instant, running at full speed down the corridors and staircases. Luckily, it was still early enough that only one or two servants dove out of the way as he rushed past, through the great doors to the entry yard.

"Cauthrien!" He yelled for her the second the cold air hit his bare chest. She was already mounted , her horse trotting towards the gates. "Cauthrien!" He bolted over the grass, suddenly aware that his feet were bare, too, and the ground was wet and practically frozen, though it didn't slow him. The horse halted and turned as he came to a stop in front of her, panting. "Weren't you even going to say good-bye?"

She stared at him for a moment. The skin around her eyes was red and slightly swollen, with dark shadows beneath. "No."

He felt the tendrils of desperation inching their way through his flesh. "Where are you going?"

"I don't know." She was holding the reins so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. "I just need to go."

"Please—"

"I can't stay, Teagan. Don't make this harder than it is."

His whole body felt almost too heavy to hold him up. "Fine. I hope you find whatever it is that you're looking for." He looked at her, tracing over her features with his eyes one last time. "Good-bye, Cauthrien." His feet and chest and heart were numb as he made his way back up the stone steps to the Keep's entranceway.

Suddenly, there was a cold hand on his arm. As he turned, her mouth was on his, hot and hungry, and he drank her in, sliding his tongue against hers with a groan. He pulled her in close, the feel of her body against his awakening a surge of passion that made the blood rumble through his veins like thunder. Her arms were twined around his neck; her fingers threaded through his hair. When she finally broke the kiss, they were both breathless.

"Don't wait for me." The brush of her thumb across his lips made coherent thought almost impossible.

"You know I will."

She lifted her head to study him gravely. "I know."

Teagan pushed her hood back, running his fingers over her hair, wishing he could pull out the tie and let it fall loose about her shoulders. He had to settle for teasing the loose ends between his fingers and relishing her shiver as he traced around the shell of her ear and down the smooth column of her throat. She kissed him again, tender and slow, until he ached.

Everything was a daze as she remounted her horse and galloped away, looking back for a moment with one hand raised in farewell.

"Come back to me soon," he whispered. "Please."


	6. Lost For You

**Lost For You**

The first month crawled by, then the second, and the third. In the beginning, Teagan had rushed anxiously to the window each morning, hoping beyond any expectation to see her riding back. But, as time went by, watching the sun rise from his window became just part of the daily routine that he'd resigned himself to. The Keep was quiet and lifeless without her, and he muddled through the days with a heavy sense of weariness. The first time he was called back to court, he'd left specific instructions for the serving staff, but he needn't have bothered.

She didn't come.

The only thing that kept him going was the mysterious gifts he received by various couriers as spring bled into the hot dryness of summer and then the bright colors of autumn. Sometimes, they were frequent—one every fortnight or so—and then there would be nothing for weeks. There were never letters, only curiosities that he wasn't quite sure what they meant, if anything.

A delicate wildflower pressed between two thin sheets of wood.

A polished seashell that rippled with a rainbow of color when he tilted it back and forth.

Some sort of seeds that had grown into bursts of small, blue, five-petaled flowers with centers that looked like yellow stars.

A book on beginning swordsmanship, clearly meant for children, with pictures of a silly looking mabari on two legs demonstrating basic stances and positions. That one had made him laugh out loud.

The latest one was a small representation of two swans, their necks intertwined, carved from a hard, polished stone of a deep apple green. With a sigh, he rubbed the polished surface with the tips of his fingers and then slipped it back into his pocket. It had been a long day.

He had spent the morning resolving disputes related to the annual tax collection, a necessary evil if they were to rebuild. The roads were in terrible shape, but that would have to wait until spring. Groups of bandits were becoming a problem, too; not that the people they robbed had much to take.

The afternoon had been spent on paperwork for the Keep and he had been dismayed to see how little they had for provisions to last them over the winter. The Keep's large garden had been overgrown and abandoned since he had come to Rainesfere so many years ago now, but he was now of the mind to get it back into serviceable order as soon as possible for the upcoming year. A voice startled him out of his thoughts.

"Your meal is ready, my Lord." The serving girl waited for his nod before departing.

He carefully stacked the papers on his desk into a neat pile and stretched as he stood up. Truthfully, he wasn't even hungry. After he had picked at his food long enough, he made his way down to the training room. It had felt awkward to continue after she had left, but he had felt some sort of obligation to continue improving himself. Teagan stripped off his shirt, tossing it on to one of the benches before selecting a sword from the rack of blunted weapons. Standing perfectly still, he spent a few minutes focusing on his breath, concentrating on nothing but the slow draw of air in and the soft push of air out. He then dropped into a basic defensive stance, blocking low, then high, in a lazy arc. As much as he hated to admit it, ' _Swordplay with Ser Woofles_ ' had been, perhaps, a tiny bit useful.

Closing his eyes, he imagined an opponent and began to cycle through the forms of movement—like the steps of a dance—that she had shown him. First, the one for an opponent wielding a sword and shield. Next, the one for an opponent wielding a longer reach weapon like a spear. Next, the one for an opponent wielding a two-handed sword or axe. His eyes still closed, he leapt back with a start when his sword struck something, the reverberation in his arm shocking him so much that he dropped his weapon.

He opened his eyes and froze.

_He was dreaming._

_He had to be._

"Bann Teagan." Cauthrien bowed deeply before him. She gave him the cautious hint of a smile—just the corners of her mouth turning up.

After gaping for a moment longer, he managed to speak. "Ser Cauthrien." He bowed as well; surprised he was even still able to stand. He took in the sight of her as a starving man presented with a heel of bread, eyes devouring the familiar and unfamiliar alike. Her hair was longer, though still tied back, and her complexion had darkened. She looked tired, but not so… weighted down as she'd been before. She was dressed in riding leathers, her boots still speckled with mud from the roads.

Cauthrien reached down and picked up his sword, looking at him approvingly. "You've been practicing."

"You came back." He could still scarcely believe that she was standing in front of him.

"I did."

A thousand questions raced through his mind, none that he dared utter aloud. "You must be hungry. And tired."

She offered him the sword and, when he shook his head, she walked over and returned it to the weapons rack. "Yes. It's been a long journey home."

_His home, or just Ferelden?_

"If you'd like, I can have someone draw a bath in your room and bring a tray of food up to my study. We can talk privately there, if you wish." He was sure she could practically see the incessant pounding of his heart through his chest.

She turned, pulling off her leather gloves. "Thank you. That would be wonderful." He nodded, watching her; afraid to blink in case she disappeared. "Did you want your shirt?" She gestured towards where it lay discarded on the bench.

"My—oh, of course." He flushed a little as he shrugged into it, doing up just enough buttons to keep it from falling open. Teagan opened the door and waited. "After you."

She passed by him before turning back. "I'll see you in your study in an hour or so."

"All right." It took all his self-control to watch her vanish down the corridor and up the stairs.


	7. Into Your Heart I'll Beat Again

**Into Your Heart I'll Beat Again**

When she had gone, he hurried to find a servant to make the arrangements for baths—one for himself as well certainly couldn't hurt—and food for afterward. That finished, he bolted up the stairs towards his own chambers. The bath helped ease his nerves somewhat, though he noticed, with some embarrassment, that his hands were trembling as he combed through his damp hair and rebraided the strands along one side. Teagan selected a pair of soft brown trousers and a muted green shirt, slipping the carving of the swans back into his pocket, the weight of the cool stone strangely comforting.

After a few moments of aimless fussing with his hair, he made his way next door to his study, a little relieved that he had arrived there before her. A fire was crackling in the hearth, casting warm shadows over the rows of bookshelves that lined the walls. A knock at the door made his breath stop, but it was only a pair of servants and a rather enormous quantity of food. They arranged it all on one of the ornate tables near the fireplace before bowing themselves out, and Teagan helped himself to a glass of wine, hoping to achieve some semblance of calm.

Trying to keep himself from pacing back and forth across the room, he chose a book at random and sunk down into one of the plush chairs. The words swam off the page, no matter how hard he tried, and he eventually closed it and stuck it back on the shelf. The knock this time didn't make him jump, at least.

"Come in." The relief at seeing her seemed to trickle down his spine and into his arms and legs, but he managed a bow all the same. "Ser Cauthrien."

She bowed as well. "Bann Teagan." She was dressed in a simple linen shirt and trousers, her hair pulled back in her customary ponytail. Free of the dust from her travels, her skin nearly shone now that it had been scrubbed clean.

"Please, eat." He helped himself to a small plate as well, not wanting her to feel uncomfortable about being the only one eating. As an added bonus, it gave him something to do with himself that wasn't fidgeting. Cauthrien ate heartily, finishing her first plate quickly and going back for another. Teagan poured them both glasses of wine as he waited for her to finish.

At last, Cauthrien sat back on the small sofa with a contented sigh. "Much better. Thank you."

"You're most welcome." He passed her a glass of wine and then lightly clinked his glass against hers. "To avoiding the madness."

She smiled and returned the gesture. "To avoiding the madness." They both took a sip and Teagan sat down awkwardly in the high backed chair across from her. "Did you get the things I sent?"

His hand went unconsciously to the carved stone in his pocket, a quick touch as if to reassure himself it was still there. "Yes—thank you—though… I wasn't quite sure what they were for."

Cauthrien tucked her feet up beneath her, cradling the goblet of wine between her hands. "I just wanted you to know… that I hadn't forgotten you."

"I don't think you needed to worry about that." He leaned forward slightly, wishing he was close enough to take her hand. "Will you tell me about it? Where you went, I mean."

She took a long swallow of wine. "I went to Ostagar first. I needed to… see things for myself. I spent a few days there, thinking." She didn't speak for a moment, swirling the liquid in her cup. "I believed in Loghain for so long. I tried so hard to justify why he did the things he did. He was a hero—my hero—and I didn't want to believe that there was any way he could have been wrong. I still don't know what I believe any more, honestly. The wildflower I sent you is called Andraste's Grace. I picked it there. They're growing wild all over the battlefield; I've never seen anything like it. From there, I went north. Worked as a guard on a few caravans until I reached Amaranthine and then took odd jobs on ships to get myself to Rivain."

As much as he hated to interrupt her, his curiosity got the better of him. "Why Rivain?"

She gave him a half smile, more relaxed than he'd ever seen her. "I've always wanted to see it. My granda used to tell me stories about it that his da had told him. My great-grandda was a sailor, when he was young, to earn the money to buy the land for the farm. The seashell is from the beaches there."

Cauthrien talked for a long time, recounting her journey through Antiva, the Free Marches, and even, to his surprise, Orlais. Each of the gifts she had sent tied to a place, a moment, an experience, and it made Teagan wish they were laid out in front of him so he could re-examine each one as she spoke. She had found work as a guard here, a mercenary there, a laborer on a farm, a dock hand, a courier.

She doubled over in laughter when describing how she had found the book, nearly choking on her newly filled glass of wine when he stood up to demonstrate how ' _Ser Woofles_ ' had helped him improve his ripostes. When he sat back down, he sat next to her on the sofa, and the warm look in her eyes as she wiped the tears of laughter away was enough to quell most of his remaining anxiousness.

"And, not long after that, I realized that I was ready to come back to Ferelden. Something had finally… settled for me."

"You missed one."

"What do you mean?" She drained her glass in an impressive swallow and placed it on the table.

"This one." Teagan fumbled in his pocket and drew out the carved swans. "Where did this one come from?"

It might have been from the wine, but a lovely blush had crept up her neck and across her cheeks. "It's mine. My great-grandda found it inside the belly of a fish, so the story goes. He gave it to my great-grandma when they married, and it passed down to my grandda, and then my ma. She gave it to me the day I left with Loghain to join the army. It's supposed to be lucky." She took the stone from his palm and traced over the intertwined necks with a fingertip. "I remember hearing a minstrel once telling a story about two lovers that were cursed by a witch. They were bound into the bodies of swans, turning to stone with the setting sun and awakening again with the dawn. It made me think of this."

"What happened to them?" He edged closer, peering over her shoulder at the carving, acutely conscious of the fact that his leg was now pressed against hers. "The lovers in the story, I mean."

"They died. The witch offered to lift the curse if the man would lie with her and get her with child. When he refused, she killed him in a jealous rage. On hearing of her lover's death, the maiden swam down to the bottom of the lake where it was so deep that even the light of the sun couldn't reach the bottom and turned to stone forever."

"So, no happy ending then?"

"Life isn't happy, Teagan."

"It can be." He cautiously stretched his hand out to cover hers, the stone still in between her palm and his. He felt her sharp intake of breath. "Why did you come back?"

She looked down at their hands. Her voice was quiet. "Because, no matter where I went, I couldn't stop thinking about you."

Teagan reached up to stroke her cheek lightly with his other hand. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too." She shifted to look at him, her eyes searching his as his fingers trailed down her jaw.

He lifted his hand that lay over hers and picked up the swan carving, setting it down carefully on the table before cupping her face gently in both hands. The kiss was soft, just a brief touch of his lips on hers, but he could feel her trembling. "Do you want to stay? With me?"

"Yes."

He kissed her again, full of longing and want and need as her lips parted beneath his. She pulled on his lower lip with her teeth, her tongue sliding against his as her hands came up to cradle the back of his head. His hands moved to her shoulders and he pulled her in closer as the kiss became deeper. He could taste the wine on her tongue and he wanted more—more contact, more pressure, more of  _her_. Desire crashed over him, and he was painfully hard almost instantly.

She pressed against him, pushing him back until she could hook a leg over his. The feel of her sliding up and over to straddle him made him groan loudly against her mouth and his head fell back against the back of the sofa as she moved down his neck, biting and suckling. Her hips rolled forward as she ground down against his length and he couldn't think, couldn't breathe. She was pulling at the ties on his trousers, grazing her teeth across the sensitive skin at the base of his neck at the same time.

"Stop." The words were agonizingly hard to form, his thoughts syrupy and slow. "Wait."

She sat up, her chest heaving as she gasped for air. "What is it?" He felt her stiffen slightly as she pulled back, her eyes suddenly hurt and wary. "Did you not want to—I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"

He grabbed her arms. "I want this. I want you." The tension in her body relaxed slightly as he reached up to tuck a tendril of hair behind her ear. "I've been waiting, hoping, for this for so long, that I just want it to last. I want it to be perfect."

"I… don't have much experience… going slow. It's always been just fucking. Against a tree. On the ground. Wherever it was far enough away from the tents to give you a few minutes of privacy." Teagan rubbed her lower back in a slow circle as she talked. Words spilled out quickly and he was afraid to interrupt something she clearly needed to work through. "Even then, I didn't do it much. I got enough of people saying that I'd fucked my way through the ranks without it being true."

"I'm sorry."

Her eyes glistened in the low light and she wiped at them fiercely with her fingers. "Don't be sorry. You asked me about Loghain and I being lovers… before I left."

"You don't need to—"

"I lied. We weren't lovers, but I let him fuck me whenever he wanted. He needed the release and I begged him to let me give it to him. The night before the battle at Ostagar he fucked me raw and, Maker help me, I wanted him to. I wanted him to want me, but I didn't mean anything to him. I never did."

"Cauthrien," Teagan smoothed away the tears gathering at the corner of each of her eyes with a careful stroke of his thumb. "I want you. I love you." She was trying not to cry, but the tears were forming faster than he could wipe them away. "Stay with me. I don't want to be without you."

She wept then, burying her face in his chest. He found the tie that held back her hair and loosened it carefully so as not to catch and pull her hair. Her hair was still faintly damp from her bath earlier; the delicate floral fragrance grew stronger as he combed his fingers through it. She seemed to melt into him as he wrapped his arms around her and waited for her to come back to him.


	8. Crash Into Me

**Crash Into Me**

When she finally grew still, she was so quiet that he thought she might have fallen asleep.

"Teagan?" Her voice was hoarse from crying, soft and muffled against his shirt. "How do you know that you love me?"

He settled his cheek against the top of her head and tucked the strands of hair that had fallen into her face back behind her ear as he talked. "Because… after you came here, I couldn't think of anything but you; the rest of the day was just an exercise in whiling away the hours until we could be together. When you left, everything felt empty."

She was silent again, toying with the edges of his collar as her breathing gradually lost the last edges of raggedness. "I'm glad I left. It made me realize that none of the things I was doing, none of the places I saw, none of the people I met… made me feel like you made me feel." Cauthrien raised her head and pressed a gentle kiss against his mouth. "I don't know if this is love, but I want it to be."

He moved his hand behind her head, revelling in the sweet-smelling silkiness of her hair as he claimed her mouth just as gently; a languid exploration punctuated by tiny gasps and sighs. The way she was clenching his shirt in her fingers was reigniting the fire in his blood, but he held back, determined not to push her too far. There was no way of denying how hard he was again, though, and her slightest movements were causing a delicious sense of friction despite the confining fabric of his trousers. He allowed himself to edge his other hand under the hem of her shirt and laid his palm against the bare skin of her back.

With a tender nip at his lip, she broke the kiss and sat back. The light from the fire brought out the hints of copper in her hair and he couldn't help the hunger in his gaze at finally seeing her hair down, spilling over her shoulders. Her lips were lightly swollen from kissing, and he had no doubt that his were as well. He cleared his throat, suddenly aware that his hand was still beneath her shirt, resting on her back. Moving it away reluctantly, Teagan ran his fingers through his hair. "We don't have to do this now. I don't want to rush you. I'll wait as long as it takes."

"I've been gone for almost a year. I think that's enough waiting, don't you?" She undid the top-most button of his shirt, then, the next.

He laid his hand over top of hers. "Not here. My chambers are just next door."

Cauthrien nodded, smiling a little as he had to bite back a groan when she slid off his lap. He took her hand in his as they made the short journey to his room, where he threw the bolt behind them. She took a few steps into the room, looking around slowly before stopping to stare at the pile of trinkets carefully arranged on the top of one of the dressers. "You really did save them all." She sounded almost incredulous as she turned back to look at him.

"Of course I did." He crossed the room to stand behind her as she examined them, her fingertips ghosting over each one, pausing briefly to touch a few and turn them over. She leaned back against his chest, her head resting against his heart. "Whatever you want to do tonight is fine with me." He placed a kiss on her temple. "I'm yours."

She turned to face him, looking at him almost hesitantly. "I want to make love to you, with you, but I've never done it... like that. Fucking is all I know." Her fingers crept tentatively over his jaw, caressing the rough stubble on his chin. "Loghain always took me from behind. No talking. No kissing."

The thought of her and Loghain made his stomach lurch and his hands unconsciously clench into tight fists, his short nails digging into his palms. He couldn't help the images that flitted through his mind of her bent over whatever surface was convenient, just  _taking it_  as Loghain brutally slammed into her over and over again, grunting with  _his_  pleasure. Never mind that she'd said that she wanted it—if the man hadn't been dead already, he might have killed him himself. Teagan forced himself to take a controlled breath.

Loghain was dead.

Cauthrien was here, with him. She'd come back, wanting to be with  _him_.

"I'm not him."

"I know."

Teagan took her hand and led her over to the bed, guiding her to sit down on the edge. "Boots first." He knelt at her feet and pulled one booted foot to rest on his thigh. He stroked her leg, starting from the middle of her thigh, down to her knee, over the hard rim at the top of her boot, and down to the top of her foot before gently wiggling the boot off. He then stroked down the same leg again, allowing his fingers to curl behind her knee and trail down her calf. "That's one." He set her foot down on the ground and repeated the process with the other leg. "That's two." He set them aside and looked up at her. "Shirt next?"

At her nod, he slid closer, still kneeling, between her parted legs. Teagan leaned forward to kiss her neck and she shivered, edging slightly nearer to him. He began to undo the buttons that ran the length of her shirt, barely able to contain the way his own hands were shaking. "You're so beautiful."

She shook her head. "I'm not like the women you're used to."

"And what sort of women do you think I'm used to?" He slid the fabric off her shoulders and she pulled her arms free from the sleeves. Her breasts were still tightly bound by a band of cloth and he paused to marvel at her.

"Curvy. Soft. No scars." Cauthrien folded her arms uncomfortably across her chest.

Teagan stood up, pulling her up with him. "I want you. Only you. Just as you are." His mouth found hers for a moment and then he nudged her head to the side, giving him access to slide his tongue along the outer edge of her ear. She gave a breathy sigh as he bit down on her earlobe, moving gradually down her neck with a combination of chaste kisses and teeth and tongue. Her breathing grew quicker as he progressed along the ridges of her collar bone. His hands drifted up the warm skin of her back, to the ties of her breastband. "May I?" he murmured against her neck.

"Yes." She turned her back to him to make it easier for him to loosen the knots that held the fabric in place and it took him a moment to get his fumbling fingers to cooperate. Once they were untied, she turned to face him again, still holding the cloth against her breasts.

While he watched, his chest so constricted with desire that he was rooted to the spot, she dropped her hands and her breastband fluttered to the floor along with another piece of folded cloth. He bent down to pick it up, not taking his eyes from her chest. "Gorgeous," he murmured, pleased with how she flushed at his words, and absently unfolded the scrap of cloth. He looked at it with a start of recognition, taking in the initials embroidered in the lower left corner. "My… handkerchief. You kept it?"

Cauthrien nodded. "I just—you were kind to me, and I kept it. While I was gone, it was… a comfort." She looked away awkwardly. "Stupid, I know."

"No, it's not." Teagan let it fall to the floor, taking her into his arms and kissing her deeply. He steered them back to the bed and pushed her down carefully, not breaking the kiss as he slid up beside her. She twined her legs with his, and it was all he could do to keep his hips from snapping forward to grind against her. The feel of her tongue thrusting into his mouth made him moan. His hand settled on one of her breasts and he revelled in the smoothness of the skin there before his fingertips tugged lightly on her nipple.

The need to taste her was strong enough that he broke the kiss with a gasp, edging down to take one of her nipples into his mouth, suckling and swirling around it with his tongue. His hand massaged her other breast, caressing the sensitive underside with his fingers. "Teagan." His name came out as a moan, a plea for more, as she arched towards him. Her fingers pulled at his shirt. "I want to take this off you."

He released her reluctantly and pushed himself back so she could reach the buttons. Her breathing was rough and uneven; her hands surprisingly steady as she worked her way down, one button at a time. He shrugged out of it as soon as she had finished, reaching for her, but she pushed him back feathering kisses across his chest. Her long hair hung down, obscuring her face, and the ends of it tickled his skin as she moved. When her tongue dragged across one of his nipples, he flinched with a growl of pleasure. He was sure he felt her smile as she shuffled over just enough to lick the other one, too.

She stretched back to lie on her side, running her hands over his chest, exploring further and further downward until she reached the top of his trousers and gave him a questioning look before sliding lower to caress the bulge of his trapped length through the fabric. "Not yet," he managed to choke out, instinctively pushing up against the feel of her fingers. Lifting her hand away, he rolled so that he mostly covered her, slanting his mouth across hers once more. The feel of her bare flesh against his was intoxicating as his hands glided over every inch he could reach, learning each scar, each spot that made her gasp against his lips. He couldn't help pressing his aching length against her thigh, craving the friction of movement.

Teagan released her mouth, taking in the glorious sight of her; Cauthrien's long hair was splayed loosely over the pillows, her eyes warm with passion. "Let me show you how much I love you," he whispered, and then sat up and undid the ties on her trousers. She lifted herself up to help him as he tugged them off and tossed them off the side of the bed. "You have no idea how much I want you." He massaged her through her smallclothes at first before kneeling between her thighs and bending forward to press heated kisses against the fabric, damp with the evidence of her arousal.

He had to taste her. He couldn't wait any longer. Hooking his fingers into the waist of her smalls, he stripped them off her as gently as he could manage in his eagerness.

She tensed as he settled himself down between her legs. "What are you doing?"

"Trust me?" The smell of her, so musky and almost coppery, made his length twitch painfully.  _To bury himself inside of her… oh, Maker._

"I trust you." Her head fell back against the pillow as he spread her folds apart with his fingers and placed a kiss against the spot that he knew would have her writhing beneath him. She moaned, and he swept his tongue over it, circling with just a little more pressure each time. Cauthrien's hands were in his hair in an instant, pulling him forcefully down against her as she bucked up against his mouth, her thighs clenching against his head. "Maker, Teagan! Don't stop."

The tang of her on his tongue and the noises she was making as he suckled were driving him to an incoherent desire for release and he couldn't help grinding his groin against the mattress in time with the ministrations of his mouth. With the tip of his finger, he teased her opening before pushing it inside of her, thrusting it into the hotness of her center in time with the desperate rocking of her hips. Her legs were shaking as she held his head in place, stilling against him with a cry and a final hard press against his mouth.

Cauthrien's hands relaxed, releasing him, though her legs still trembled. He moved up to lie down beside her, brushing aside a few sweat-soaked tendrils of hair that were clinging to the side of her face. She opened her eyes and turned her face towards his, one hand reaching up to stroke his cheek. There was no need to speak, he saw it all in her eyes. They lay there languidly for a minute as her fingertips curved around his ear, down his throat and chest, to the ties on his trousers. This time, he didn't stop her as she untied them, the two of them working together to pull them off. His smallclothes were next, and the warmth of her hands brushing against him was maddeningly sweet until his length sprung free.

Teagan let out a low hiss, his eyes falling shut against his will, as she wrapped one hand tightly around him. She gave a slow and firm stroke upward and then circled the tip lightly with her thumb before gliding back down his shaft. He arched up into her touch with a hoarse groan. "Cauthrien… I need you…"

"I'm yours. I'll do anything you want."

She kissed just the tip of him, the barest flick of her tongue darting out, and he groaned, fighting to stay in control. "No, tonight is about you. What do  _you_  want?"

"I want to be able to touch you, kiss you." He opened his eyes to see her looking at him. "I want to be able to see your face while you're inside me."

"We can do that. Are you ready?" She nodded and moved her hand away, making it slightly easier to think again.

He guided her down so that she was lying beneath him once more, and he could feel the wet heat of her pressed against his groin. The tip of his length was pressed against her core and it was taking everything he had to keep himself there. His eyes on hers, Teagan pushed himself into her.

It was better than anything he could have ever imagined. The heat of her was searing, but she was so wet, so smooth, so tight. "Cauthrien…" Keeping his eyes open was becoming colossally difficult as he pulled out just as slowly and then thrust in again.

She cradled the sides of his face and craned her head forward to kiss him, and it was an exquisite relief to close his eyes and lose himself in the hungered frenzy of her mouth on his. He rocked into her at as slow a pace as he could stand, a fine sheen of sweat covering his skin as they moved together. Cauthrien was canting her hips up to meet him now, rolling to meet each thrust.

Burying his face into her shoulder, he suckled and nipped at the tender flesh there while her hands roamed his back, wordlessly asking for more as she pulled at him desperately. She tasted of salt, from his skin or hers, it no longer mattered. Teagan hooked his arm under her knee, adjusting her leg up so he could push in a little harder, a little deeper. He was barely aware of anything but the feel of her, his own release building with a growing tightness in his groin. She was moaning nothing but his name, and the sound drove him onward as he increased the speed of his motions to match the grasping pulls of her fingers on his backside.

When he found himself shuddering on the edge, he reached awkwardly between them—his own rhythm faltering—to press his thumb in shaking circles between the top of her folds. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold back when he felt her walls clamp down on him and with two more fast thrusts he came along with her, their cries mingling in the stillness of the room. His climax was almost agony as the need to push himself as far into her as possible made his hips jerk forward reflexively a few more times.

They lay tangled up together, and Teagan was barely able to muster enough energy to roll over so as not to crush her beneath him. She leaned forward and kissed him softly. "That was… more than I'd ever expected."

"For me, too." He kicked the blankets down far enough that they could get underneath them before pulling them back up to cover them both. She curled up against him, her head resting on his chest, as he stroked her hair.

Utterly spent, Teagan floated in a half-state between dreaming and wakefulness, feeling the rise and fall of Cauthrien's breathing growing steadier. Just when he was sure she was asleep, she nuzzled up into his neck. Her voice wasn't even a whisper, just her breath caressing his skin. "I love you."

He wrapped his arms more tightly around her, happier than he'd ever been.


	9. Show The World To Me - Epilogue 1

**Show The World To Me (Epilogue – Part 1)**

A fat bumblebee was buzzing around Teagan's head and he shooed it away with a lazy wave of his hand. The early summer sun was pleasantly warm, just enough to make him drowsy as he rested his back against the trunk of the tree that he was sitting in front of. Cauthrien sat between his legs, leaning back against his chest, their hands each twined together on top of her belly which, he had to admit—not to her, of course… he wasn't that interested in dying a horrible death—was now rather substantial.

The air was sweet with blossoms that grew in the huge flowerbeds that ran the length of the old stone wall that encircled the Keep's garden. Most of the garden was practical, with rows of vegetables and a handful of fruit-bearing trees, but this corner had been his wedding gift to her almost six summers before.

"No, not your left foot. Try again."

Cauthrien's voice pulled him out of his daydream and he opened his eyes languidly.

Aislin settled back into a defensive stance, her tiny wooden sword wavering slightly. Her brow crinkled as she edged forward across the grass, waving her sword in a determined and uncoordinated arc. She had been begging for a practice sword for months, much to Cauthrien's delight and, with her fifth name day approaching, the timing had been perfect.

"Good! Do it again!"

Aislin looked over at the two of them with an exasperated sigh. "I'm getting tired, mama."

Cauthrien arched against him, stretching her back. "Just one more. You don't want to have a lazy grip like your father now, do you?"

"No." She grumped petulantly for a moment but then resumed her motions, going back the other way this time.

Teagan lifted his hand from beneath hers and poked her playfully in the ribs. "I resent that. My grip is just fine."

"Pardon me for wanting her to learn to do it correctly." She tilted her head back to grin at him and he kissed her gently.

"Ew! Are you done yet?" Aislin flopped down at Cauthrien's feet, pushing long strands of dark hair out of her eyes.

"Never. I'm never done," Teagan said, rubbing Cauthrien's belly lovingly while Aislin made a face.

"You did really well today." Cauthrien gave their daughter's hand a squeeze. "You know, I heard Lucia say this morning that she was going to make a batch of honey cookies."

"Really? Can I go ask her for some? Please?"

"Go ahead."

"Thanks, mama!" She raced off at a breakneck speed towards the Keep.

"Mmm. A moment to ourselves. Whatever shall we do?" Teagan nibbled on her neck.

"Oof. We're not really alone. You can tell the wee beastie here to stop kicking my ribs." Cauthrien shifted uncomfortably.

"Where?"

"Here." She guided his hand to a spot on her right-hand side, and they waited together.

There was a bump against his palm and he grinned. No matter how many times he felt the babe move within her, it somehow still managed to amaze him that there really was a tiny person in there.  _Their_  babe. With Aislin, he had worried about everything, and it was nice to feel more relaxed this time around. The babe nudged again and he kissed the edge of Cauthrien's ear. "I never get tired of that."

"That's because it's not  _your_  innards being rearranged."

"You know what you need?" He massaged her shoulders for a moment before standing up, careful not to bang his head against the tree's branches.

"What?"

He extended a hand and helped her to her feet. "Honey cookies. Lots of them. Well, assuming our bottomless pit of a daughter hasn't eaten the entire batch by herself already. Shall we?"

She looped her arm in his and they walked towards the Keep. "Is there any point in arguing with you?"

"Not really, no. And, you don't  _want_  to argue with me anyway. You're as bad as Aislin when it comes to those cookies. You honestly think I don't know that by now?"

"Hmm… maybe you  _are_  smarter than you look."

"I am insulted, Lady Cauthrien. How dare you malign me in such a manner?"

He puffed up in an attempt to look suitably offended, but she just laughed. "I love you." She slid an arm around his waist and squeezed him tightly. "Now, cookies, you say…"


	10. In A Boy's Dream (Epilogue - Part 2)

**In A Boy's Dream (Epilogue – Part 2)**

Corbin was not happy, and he was making that fact abundantly clear. Cauthrien was trying yet again to get him nurse, but he was having none of it, pushing his head away and wailing. Aislin had crawled into their bed a few hours before, complaining that the crying was keeping her awake, although it certainly wasn't waking her now. She was curled into a ball at Cauthrien's side, sleeping more soundly than the rest of them.

"Let me take him for a bit. I'll take him for a walk."

"Would you?" She looked up at him gratefully and passed their screaming son up into his arms.

Teagan settled the boy against his shoulder and then bent down and kissed her. "Try and get a little rest. We'll be back soon."

Teagan bounced Corbin lightly as they walked, murmuring to him as they went. "Where shall we go, hmmm? Far enough away that your mother can't hear you." He made his way downstairs where they wandered the hallways for a while until settling on the library. Teagan sat down in one of the plush upholstered chairs and patted Corbin's back rhythmically. "It's all right. Do you want a story?"

Corbin cried.

"I'm going to take that as a 'yes,' okay? This was always your sister's favorite." Teagan leaned back in the chair, adjusting Corbin on his chest.

"Once, there was a young man and a maiden, and they loved each other very much. Their love was so strong that it drew the attention of an evil witch, who cursed them in her jealousy. By day, the two were forced to take the form of swans; by night, they turned to stone until the light of the sun released them. One day, the maiden had swum too far out into the center of the lake and the sun set before she could get to shore. She turned to stone and sank down to the bottom of the lake where it was so deep that the sun could not reach."

Teagan paused to kiss the top of Corbin's nearly bald head. The babe had settled down into snuffly whimpers, punctuated by the odd shriek.

"The young man was devastated. As many times as he tried to dive down to reach her, the water was just too deep. At the end of each day, he would collapse exhausted on the shore until the stone claimed him.

"The witch had a daughter, and she watched the young man's hopeless effort, day after day, and she took pity on him. She told him that there was a way to break the curse and rescue his love, but that he must remain faithful to his maiden for the rest of their lives or the curse would fall upon them once more.

"The first day, she brought him a handful of seeds that she sprinkled in the grass near the shore. She used her magic to make them grow into a ring of small, white wildflowers. 'These blossoms shall protect what you need to grow.'

"The second day, she brought him a shell that had been used to capture a rainbow. 'This shell shall be used to water what you need to grow.'

"The third day, she brought more seeds that she pressed into the earth inside the wildflower ring. 'These seeds shall grow into the flowers needed to break the curse. You must water them every day with the shell, without fail, or everything shall be lost. One more day, and they shall be ready for you.'

"The fourth and final day, she brought a book. As she read from the pages, a powerful wind blew across the lake, gathering the clouds up in a spinning spiral that twisted down to touch the inside of the circle. When she closed the book, the wind vanished in an instant. "Now, it is up to you.'

"Each day the young man carried the shell to the edge of the lake in his beak, filling it with water and carrying it to the precious seeds that lay buried within the ring of wildflowers. Summer faded into fall, fall into winter. Luckily, it wasn't cold enough for the entire lake to freeze solid, but he did have to walk far across the ice to reach the one tiny patch of open water that remained. In the spring, his heart leapt to see tendrils of green beginning to emerge from the ground."

The babe had grown quiet now, and Teagan angled his head to see if he was asleep. Wide blue eyes met his. "Staying awake to hear the end? I don't blame you.

"By early summer, there were clusters of buds on the stems, and the witch's daughter came to visit him once more. 'You have done well,' she said. 'Tomorrow, at dawn, the flowers shall bloom. You must eat the stars at their center and they will make you human once more, granting you the strength to rescue your maiden.'

"The next morning, as the witch's daughter had foretold, clusters of five-petaled blue flowers were in bloom, with one tiny yellow star in the middle of each one. He carefully nibbled a few and his feathers fell away, his wings shrunk back into arms, his body lengthened. Without another thought, he waded into the water and dove down deep, his muscles stronger than they had ever been before. His chest hardly ached when he reached the bottom and pulled the stone form of his maiden to the surface where she transformed back into a living swan. The young man gave his maiden some of the stars to eat and she, too, became human again. They wept and rejoiced in each other's arms until long after the sun had set when the witch's daughter came to see them one last time.

"'You have been faithful, and your love is true, so there is one more gift I shall bestow upon you,' she said, handing something to the young man. 'This is one of my mother's greatest treasures. Guard it well, and it shall bring you good health and happiness for the rest of your days.'

"When she had gone, the young man and his maiden examined what the witch's daughter had given them; it was a polished stone of apple green, carved into the shape of two swans with their necks intertwined. They kept the stone with them always and they lived long happy lives filled with much joy and laughter. They died peacefully in their sleep at a very old age, still wrapped in each other's arms.

"However, when the lovers' children placed their bodies on their pyre, a strange thing happened. A woman, who the children did not know, appeared and asked them about the special green stone. She had come to complete the final part of her gift, she said, since the young man and his maiden had remained faithful to one another to the end of their days. The woman—it was the witch's daughter, of course—took the stone and cast it into the flames of the pyre and the spirits of the young man and his maiden were drawn into the sky over a golden bridge to join the stars as a reward for their lives well-lived."

Corbin was asleep and Teagan spent a few moments tracing over his tiny nose, his cheeks, his hands with the tip of his finger, wanting to savor this moment of closeness with his son. He extracted himself carefully from the chair, so as not to wake him, and padded softly back upstairs. The light from the damped-down fire was just enough to see by as he placed Corbin down in his cradle at the side of the bed and watched him for a moment. "Happy endings do exist. Even if you have to make them yourself," he whispered to him, bending down to kiss his forehead.

Teagan crawled into bed next to Cauthrien—not that there was much room for him—and shook his head at Aislin who was sleeping on the other side, her arms and legs extended at wide angles so that she was taking up over half of the large bed by herself.

Cauthrien opened her eyes sleepily and smiled at him. "Bann Teagan."

"Lady Cauthrien." He returned the smile, brushing her lips lightly with his thumb.

She kissed him softly and pulled him close.

He was a lucky, lucky man. There was no doubt about it.


End file.
